


The Sirs and The Moon's Curse

by graywhatsit



Series: hfhpau [2]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Gen, Hat Films, pantsferdinand's au, were!ross
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-04 15:11:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4142403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graywhatsit/pseuds/graywhatsit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sequel to The Sirs and The Search for Magic</p><p>What happened to Ross won't go away so easily, but he's got friends to help him out.</p><p>Maybe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. sickbed

**Author's Note:**

> because i am were!ross trash

Upon their return home for the summer, after profuse apologies to the peoples of Bogshot and several long, tiring hours of manual labor as reparations for the- accidental?- burning down of such an important collection of ancient artifacts, not to mention the home of one of Smith’s relatives and a respected once-member of Bogshot’s village council- as if Smith actually _knew_ that-Trott had instantly gone back to his parent’s small study, combing the shelves thoroughly and directing Smith to help him.

    “Ross is still healing up,” he reasoned, closing the door behind them and crossing over to the packed full, yet still neatly organized bookshelves. “That means he can’t go around carrying heavy stacks of books. You, however, can. Help me.”

    The Slytherin crossed his arms, leaning against a sturdy and clearly well-loved oak desk. “Are you sure? I mean, I did just wipe out a horrible red threat with a single spell.” He coughed lightly, thumping a fist against his chest. “And I did inhale a lot of smoke, mate, so-”

    “A threat we couldn’t see, for one, and we breathed in just as much as you did- that’s your fault, by the way.” Trott grabbed at his friend’s arm, tugging him over to the wall. “And we’re so incredibly proud of you- really, we believe you entirely- but you aren’t getting out of this.”

    “Because this is what I wanted to do when I got home- look through more books.” Smith pulled his arm away from Trott, stepping back a bit to look over the spines in front of him. “Why are we even looking through them? Didn’t your mum say you were banned from these?”

    Trott waved a hand dismissively, his other hand tapping along the books in front of him, keeping track of the ones he’d read and subsequently skipping them in favor of the next one. “What mum doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

    “What?” Smith looked down at the shorter boy, eyes wide. “Did you just say what I thought you said? Oh, Trotty,” he sniffled, placing a hand over his heart, “I’m so proud. Just wait until I tell Ross.”

    “Yes, you’ve been a horrible influence on me,” he replied, dryly. “And we’re looking _for_ Ross, you know. Look for anything relating to magical beasts- or, maybe, herbology and potions? Those are really your strong suits, maybe you’ll have luck there.”

    “Looking _for_ Ross?” His brows knit together in confusion before it finally dawned on him. “Trott, he was bitten on a full moon night by a fully transformed werewolf. There’s no way he’s going to get cured, that’s not how it works.”

    “How do you know?” The Ravenclaw finally turned to face him, a determined, defiant look clear on his face. “Even if there isn’t a cure _yet_ , we could find one! There’s nothing we can’t do, yeah? We found your magic when everyone else thought it wasn’t there- we can find a cure the same way.”

    Smith was nowhere near as optimistic as Trott, even on his best days, but when the boy had that look on his face, one of pure determination, the will to succeed and hope that they would.. well, even he could start to believe the impossible. With a sigh, he turned towards the shelves again, copying Trott’s same strategy in order to find the books he might need.

    Quite pleased, the Ravenclaw went back to his work.

* * *

    Of course they couldn’t stay in the study- with Trott’s mum having shut the door on any unsupervised research, at least for the summer, they couldn’t risk being caught out. Instead, each boy with a hefty stack about three or four books thick, they scurried upstairs as quietly as they could, not wanting to raise suspicions.

    Trott’s room, for now, at least, was being used as a partial infirmary, with the bulk of his big, soft bed being used to house Ross, propped up on pillows and dressed in his pajamas. Werewolf bites and scratches couldn’t be healed- at least, not in the same way as other wounds; due to their magical, even cursed nature, the only thing that could possibly make a dent was time, with any healing potions or spells merely taking the edge off of the pain.

    And kind of making him high as a kite.

    “Hey, guys,” he chirped- as much of a chirp as could be given, with his slurred words- “missed you. Where did you go?”

    “Tell us how you really feel, mate,” Smith replied, muttering, and placed the stack of tomes in his arms on the desk with a solid, decisive _thump_. Trott levelled a glare at him, silently admonishing for the excessive noise, almost sure to get his mum in here faster than anyone could say “trouble”.

    “We just went out to get some stuff, that’s all. We’re back.” Trott’s voice was a little softer, more like he was speaking to a child, and it seemed to work much better than Smith’s own irritated tone, as Ross’ face quickly turned from a slightly hurt frown to a smile. “How’re you feeling?”

    “Really good! But my shoulder won’t move?” He lifted first his right shoulder, easily rolling it, before attempting to do the same with his- now properly and tightly bandaged- left shoulder. “I think it’s supposed to. Or my other one is too loose. It’s hot in here, can you open the window?”

    Smith and Trott glanced at each other, then over to the already wide open window, the reddish curtains stirring in the cooler breeze that had formed in the past day or so.

    “It’s.. it’s open, mate.”

    Ross frowned, confused, and turned to look at the window, himself. “Is it? Oh. Well then, ‘s still too hot- I know!” He lifted his arms, at least as much as he could, and attempted to wriggle out of his shirt.

    “Fucking- _stop_ that!” The closer of the pair, Smith tugged his shirt back down, lowering Ross’ arms again and removing the blanket from over his legs. “You’ll be cool in no time- Trott, are those potions they gave him supposed to make him boiling hot? Because I’m pretty sure only Pepperup does that.”

    “Stage one: wolf fever.” Trott pulled out a few rolls of parchment from a box in his desk drawer, settling them on the desk before turning to face the annoyed Smith and Ross, still looking down at his legs as though he’d never seen them before. “Delirium and increased body heat, along with inflammation in the area of the cursed bite. He’s changing already- and don’t look at me like that.” He crossed his arms. “I can read and walk at the same time.”

    “Fucking _nerd_ ,” Smith muttered, sitting down on the one corner of the bed that wasn’t taken over by the still-marvelling Hufflepuff. “Hand me my books the- oof!”

    Trott snorted after dumping the stack on Smith’s lap, pulling his wheeled chair out to perch on it, one book in his own lap as he spread out a sheet of paper in front of him, scanning and scribbling. “That’s what you get for being rude. If you find something of use, write it down; we’ll go over it later.”

    Once again more than a touch annoyed, Smith glowered, rather using the bulk of his time doodling rather rude things at Trott’s expense on his paper.


	2. cuddlebug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The closer the full moon gets, the weirder Ross acts.

The search for something, anything that could cure their friend didn’t stop at one night, nor two. Every single day, the moment one of the two awoke, they would wake the other without disturbing Ross- or, at least as much as they could avoid it- and sneak down to the study, gathering the books they’d need once more before trekking back upstairs, pulling out sheafs of curled up paper from wherever they’d hidden them last.

    The laptop was out of the question this time- it was Ross’, first and foremost, and with the wolf fever working the way it was, they weren’t quite sure how he’d react to someone using something that belonged to him. He’d already been fairly testy about them reaching for crisps off of his plate, though he’d never had problems with it before, and if anyone- bar the two of them- reached for his bag, they were met with one of the coldest stares either of them had ever witnessed. As a result, bits and scraps hidden in various cases, books, and furnishings in Trott’s room would have to do for now.

    At the sound of footsteps and slightly clanking trays heading up the wooden stairs, creaking quietly, anything that was relating to this particular search was swept away and hidden at a speed rivalling that of Smith’s Firebolt, though without so many aerial stunts, replaced with schoolbooks and assignments.

    Frightening as she could be at times, Trott’s mum was incredibly motherly, to the point of refusing to allow Ross to take his meals downstairs with everyone else. He was too poorly, she’d said, tucking him into Trott’s bed as his friends watched on, one amused and one dismayed at the commandeering of his bed, and he needed a place where he could rest. Even if he was right handed and honestly didn’t even need to stay bedridden, not to eat and get up the stairs, anyway.

    Until they’d tried that whilst she was out in the back garden and he ended up both ascending and descending the stairs on all fours and very nearly breaking his nose in the process. Sure, they’d laughed for about five minutes- alright, possibly longer- but they’d scooped up their whimpering, confused friend and brought him back upstairs to eat.

    Either way, as the tray gently floated down to lay on Ross’ lap, a sandwich, some crisps, and pumpkin juice all set out along with a vial of a reddish healing potion, Smith watched, tapping the end of his quill against his lips. He wouldn’t have used that particular potion, since it didn’t remove much pain, despite being a little tastier, but he wasn’t a healer. Still, as he watched his friend down the liquid, Trott’s mum clucking over him, hands on her hips as she watched and made _damn_ sure he’d had every last drop, an idea came to him.

    Something that wouldn’t cure, but lessen the awful pain that came with the malady. Something that, perhaps, he could make. Something that would help his friend until the day they truly found something to get rid of the curse.

    He’d have to get to work.

* * *

    This was roughly the case over the next three weeks, with one slight difference- rather than assist Trott in his efforts to find some kind of cure, Smith used his time pouring over herbology and potions texts, reading up on properties and what various combinations of plants and other ingredients could possibly do.

    This was really his element, potion making, and herbology just went hand in hand. He just seemed to have an innate sense for the entire practice, and with all of this studying for the subject, even if it wasn’t necessarily standard class information…

    Well, if an advanced potions class _did_ exist, he’d be a shoe-in for sure.

    As it was, he kept his real reasoning behind his particular studies a secret from his friend, still bound and determined to find and create a cure for the disease, entirely focused on the dense texts in front of him. If he really mentioned what his intentions were, with how worked up Trott could get, he’d be on the receiving end of a lecture to rival Trott’s mum upon her arrival to the Bogshot town center.

    Also known as the time where he honestly, legitimately, might have soiled himself.

    Honestly, Trott’s determination and loyalty should have made him the perfect Hufflepuff- seems it had never been in the cards, unlike Smith. Just the thought back to his own Sorting made him shiver- that had been a very close call.

    This continued until approximately a week before the next full moon, something they’d started to keep track of not just for Astronomy, not anymore. Starting that day, though his wolf fever had gone in a matter of days, Ross started to act _weird_. And not normal-weird.

    Though he was never grumpy, not even right now, really, he started to seem a bit.. short-tempered? If the slightest thing went against his own plan, no matter how trivial, he would glower and grumble over it for a good twenty minutes afterward, even growing snippy towards Trott’s parents, who insisted he was still healing and not only that, but still in trouble. The idea of being under someone else’s authority truly seemed to rub him the wrong way.

    However, that was just the thing- it was only ever Trott’s parents, or other people, he got angry with. Not once was it Trott or Smith, no matter what they said or did to him. Sure, if they tried to boss him around, seeing how he was the youngest, he’d glare and sit up tall, grumbling until they finally relented, often with another muttered insult, but he could never _stay_ upset. In fact, something that really confused both boys, was the sense that he was warmer towards them than ever.

    Or, perhaps, more _protective_ than ever.

    He wouldn’t let any one of them out of his sight for more than a few minutes, and no one was allowed to sit at the desk anymore without him pouting and grumbling again; the only way to get it to stop was to pile in the bed next to him- _right_ next to him. It really started to feel like they were the stuffed animals of some overgrown child, with how he refused to let them leave without him.

    Not only that, he was always touching or giving some kind of affection, way more than the occasional pat or shove they normally gave. By the end of the week, they’d taken to ducking away from him if he ever reached towards them- if they felt one more hug or hand in their hair, they might just lock him out in the damned shed for the rest of the summer.

    Which may have not been so far off a suggestion as they might have thought.

    The day of the full moon, he was completely bedridden once again, drenched in a cold sweat and shaking, despite another awful fever. Any attempt to get him to eat resulted in it coming back up not five minutes later, and it seemed- to just about everyone- that he didn’t even notice they were there. His eyes were glassy, and any word spoken to him only got a groan in response, as if the very sound of a voice was painful.

    Sick as he was- sick as a dog, Trott had joked, for a standard bit of dark humor- it surprised both boys when his parents carried Ross outside, into their old, yet still sturdy garden shed.

    “For our safety,” his dad had explained softly, settling the still-sick and slightly confused boy up against the wall. “He won’t know it’s us, he won’t know anything, according to your mother, and we don’t want him to get hurt or hurt anyone else.”

    It didn’t mean they had to like it, but both Smith and Trott could do nothing but watch his mother perform defensive charms, encasing the shed in a ever-so-slightly shimmering bubble, near invisible to the naked eye.

    As the full moon rose that night, the boys watched out the small window in Trott’s bedroom, looking over the shed, and wished she’d muffled the noise, as well.

    Even through the window, through the yards between them and the shed, through the protective barrier of both magic and wood, they could hear screams turning into howls, vicious snarling and claws tearing at the solid wooden boards, seeing the walls shudder at the occasional slam of a heavy body against them.

    Once or twice, they could just see a flash of glowing, pale blue, or thick black fur covering a heavily muscled body, but nothing more, and the thought of that _beast_ , something that was once their honest to anything overgrown puppy of a friend..

    Other that it being a cruel, twisted bit of humor, it kept them awake the rest of the night.


	3. school supplies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School's coming soon, and Smith makes a new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was away from my computer for the whole day, so i apologize for the wait!
> 
> i'll give you an extra today to make up for it

Over the next few months, very little changed.

    After a very long period of time in which they were in limbo, unsure whether they would be allowed to return to Hogwarts or not, including several long and boring meetings with Ministry officials and school staff alike, needing to explain their story and reasons over and over again, their letters came just a week before September 1st.

    It wasn’t really the optimal amount of time to gather all of their supplies, considering most everyone else had also waited until the last second to purchase school supplies, despite getting their own letters three weeks earlier than the trio, but they had to make it work somehow.

    Even if it did mean needing to be measured for new robes by an incredibly and oddly snippy measuring tape whilst Madame Malkin was busy with first years still marvelling at everything Diagon Alley had to offer. Ross really didn’t think he’d ever be smacked so hard to welt by a strip of paper before, but there he was, discreetly rubbing the back of his already-reddening hand as it continued to take measurements. Apparently, both he and Smith were growing like weeds, needing entirely new sets whilst Trott was stuck with alterations. Not that the Ravenclaw minded, still being short- it just meant he could stand to the side and laugh.

    The threats not to buy him any ice cream from Forlean Fortescue’s for laughing at their clear misery didn’t hold up, either- neither Smith or Ross were nearly so heartless as to make him miss out.

    Yet, on their way to the ice cream parlor, weaving through the crowds of people like salmon upstream, Smith actually delayed their journey- Ross, taller than Trott, could just spot his tousled auburn head disappearing into Magical Menagerie.

    “Smith!” Nothing, especially not over the din of Diagon Alley. More than a tad impatient, Trott pushed through the crowd, squirming through what gaps and openings he could find. Ross simply trailed close behind, watching anyone who got too close very carefully. He wasn’t exceptionally rude- in fact, he was far more free with his pardons and excuse mes- but you never knew who could be after your pack.

    _Friends_. God, this entire thing was ridiculous- he was beyond anxious all the time, now, and every little thing his friends did had him flying into a panic and worrying over them like a mother hen. Sure, he’d wanted to look after them before, but this… this was just unnerving, and not only to him, but his friends, being on the receiving end. Honestly, he had no idea how they put up with him for that week.

    Likely because they _had_ to.

    Finally, he caught up to his pa- _friend_ \- looking in through the big open window on the front of the shop.

    “And I thought out here was busy,” Trott muttered, pulling back from the window. “I don’t think anyone in there can _move_ , let alone buy anything.”

    “And Smith went in there. Bet he loves it, filthy bastard.”

    “Small spaces filled with people all pressed up against him.” Trott snorted, turning his back to lean against the front display and crossing his arms. “His favorite.”

    Several long, boring, drawn-out minutes of waiting later, a decidedly more ruffled-looking Smith exited the shop, holding something very carefully inside of his cupped hands.

    “Next time,” Ross started, pushing away from the windowsill and heading over to his friend, a touch disapproving of his sudden leave, “Actually tell us when you’re about to run off? The whole _school_ is here, and I’d rather not have to hunt you down and waste even more time.”

    “Yeah, mum, you found me, don’t worry.” Smith’s derisive comment and continued interest at whatever he held, rather than Ross’ lecture, earned him a swat to the back of the head. “What the _fuck_?”

    “Hush, there are kids.” Trott paused in his own admonition, moving forward to peer at Smith’s hands in an attempt to see what still lay there hidden. “What’d you get, anyway?”

    “I got a gecko! Isn’t he great? Just look at him!”

    The little reptile didn’t leap out of Smith’s hands once opened, instead preferring to lay right where he had been, peering up at the other two with a dazed, goofy look on his little face, body looking more than a bit silly with the wide array of spots covering the scales.

    “I guess?” Trott reached out a finger, very carefully stroking the top of the little gecko’s head, earning closed eyes and a pleased chirp in return. “What’s his name? Does he even have one yet?”

    “Course he does, I gave him it the second I saw him,” Smith replied as Ross leaned in, taking his turn to pet him. “He’s called Randy.”

    The Hufflepuff raised an eyebrow. “Randy? Why’d you name him that?”

    “Mate, if you saw him doing what I saw him doing, you’d name him Randy, too.”

    Slowly, staring down at the still goofy, wide smile the gecko sported, both boys drew their hands away, wiping off their fingers on their trousers.

* * *

    Upon arrival at school- after Sorting and the welcoming feast and a good night’s sleep, of course- their punishments were set in place. No Quidditch for the rest of the year- poor Smith was absolutely devastated, as was Ross, as he couldn’t even shit talk Parv this year; No dueling- they honestly needed to hold Trott back for that one- and several, several hours of what were really just chores. Teachers needed help sorting and organizing and cleaning, and with their busy schedules, they needed all the help they could get.

    It had to be done, lest they wanted to be in more trouble, but it clearly upset Trott and Smith, for more than one reason. With these extra duties, classes, and homework, they had next to no time at all to continue their search for a cure, or even Smith’s temporary solution. There simply wasn’t enough time, and, for this trio, they didn’t exactly have a time turner on their side.

    Instead, they just had to buckle down and take care of it, hoping that they could do it all quickly and well enough to scrape up some time for this project, becoming even more important now, as school started.

    Neither Smith nor Trott were sure what was to be done with Ross in the meantime- maybe one of the teachers or even the headmistress, herself could come up with some way to keep him safe while they looked around for what they needed.

    When the topic came up at the dinner table, however, days before they needed to leave, Trott’s mum shook her head.

    “The school can’t know about it,” she replied, simply, setting her fork down. “If people were to find out their children were sharing a building for months with a werewolf-”

    “What about it?” Smith glared, both Ross and Trott at his side. “You’d think they’d be okay- wasn’t one of the heros of the War a werewolf?”

    “Remus Lupin,” Trott murmured, helpfully, before raising his own voice. “He was, and no werewolf is all bad- we know Ross, he’s not evil! They’ll be able to do more for him, won’t they? More than we can.”

    “You’ve been reading the news recently, haven’t you?” Neither boy who had spoken up had, but Ross, quiet and downtrodden the entire day, nodded.

    “This morning. There was a whole spread- The Ministry’s saying all sorts of things and pointing fingers, because of where most werewolves sided. People… aren’t near as accepting as you’d think.” The whole time he spoke, he mumbled, stirring his mash with his fork listlessly. “I don’t know- will I have to drop out?”

    Trott’s mum couldn’t say anything to that face, genuinely so upset, and just as she steeled herself to- likely- break the poor boy’s heart-

    “Hell no!” Smith reached over, grabbing one of Ross’ shoulders and shaking gently. “Wherever we go, you go, and vice versa. And Trott won’t let me quit school.”

    “You need it. We’ll find a way, mate, don’t worry!”

    “Hold on just one second-”

    Trott’s hopeful voice from Ross’ other side drowned out his mother’s protesting words, and it did bring a bit of a smile back to his face- Ross actually continued to eat his food, rather than play with it. Maybe they really could be alright.

    Trott’s mum only hoped they would be.


	4. hiding place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School is tough for a werewolf.

That was easier said than done at school.

    The weird protectiveness that followed Ross the entire week prior to the transformation only amplified when the werewolf wasn’t near to his pack, driving the boy to distraction during both class and his detention, leaving him having not paid attention and more than a bit behind on his work.

    Considering, also, that whatever time they had to do homework in was spent with his friends, they didn’t exactly get theirs done that week, either. It’s a little difficult to write or read or do just about anything when someone has you in the tightest bear hug of your life, and it really didn’t help the teasing going on about the three of them. Hufflepuff common room or not, kids were still kids, and they latched onto whatever they could.

    Nights were even worse for the lot of them, as Ross- in this odd state of mind- couldn’t bear the thought of leaving the two of them alone, especially whilst they were sleeping. What if something happened? He wouldn’t be there to take care of them, not if he was all the way by the kitchens with Trott and Smith at extremes. Even with portrait shortcuts, there was no way to get to both of them nearly fast enough, and prefects only added another obstacle in getting to them.

    One day, only a day or two before the full moon, as they were studying in the library- Trott’s idea- Smith had enough.

    “Mate, we really need to do something about- oh, will you fucking _stop_ \- this,” he grumbled, attempting to push away from Ross, who suddenly had an iron grip and all the determination of a dog with his toy to keep him there. “He was clingy enough when we were together all the time!”

    “I know, but where are we going to put him? We don’t exactly have a shed this time.” The Ravenclaw pushed his chair away from the table, standing up only to be caught by Ross grabbing a fistful of his robes. “Ross, I need to get this book.”

    The werewolf glowered. “Too far away, you don’t need it. You’re smart enough.”

    Trott rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the compliment, mate, but I do. I’ll be right back, I promise.” At Ross’ continued petulant stare, he huffed, eyes flicking to Smith. “You can keep hold of Smith whilst I’m gone? It won’t be a minute.”

    “Wait, wha-” The Slytherin was cut off as a second arm wrapped around him, Ross dropping Trott’s robes in favor of this particular suggestion. “Fuck you, Trott!”

    “You can get revenge later,” he called over his shoulder, returning a minute later- as promised- to a steaming Smith and very pleased Ross, book in hand. “See? Told you- oof!” And into the bear hug he went, as well. “For fuck’s _sake_!”

    “Revenge, mate,” Smith answered, smug, yet still muffled by both boys being squished against him. “Now, are we actually going to do something? Because we can’t just have him roaming.”

    He regretted his decision as the very thought had Ross tighten his hold, a low, distressed grumble in his chest.

    “Hey, it’s okay! We’ll find something, just take a look around? You will have to let go of us, first.” Nothing, until Trott continued. “You can come with us, see if it’ll work. You know what you’re like.” He paused for a second. “It’ll keep anyone, even you, from getting hurt. We just want to help.”

    He wasn’t too happy about it, considering the pout clear on his face, but the Hufflepuff did loosen his grip enough for both of his friends to squirm away, straightening out their rumpled robes. “Come on, then. Let’s go find a safe place.”

* * *

  
  


    “Smith, we are _not_ putting him in the Gryffindor common room.”

    “Why not?” Smith tugged on Ross’ arm, leading him up the many winding and turning staircases, dodging other students all the way up to the seventh floor. “That Thorne kid has it coming.”

    “ _No_.” The shorter boy shoved Smith’s arm away, instead pulling Ross along back downstairs. “We’re not endangering anyone, no matter what they’ve done.”

    Ross, for his part, was simply happy being around his friends for once.

* * *

    Their next stop actually wasn’t where either Ross or Smith expected: Trott led them right out of the doors, across the courtyard and bridge down onto the grounds.

    “Where are we going?”

    “To the forest,” the Ravenclaw replied simply, not turning back to face either of his friends. “Come on, then, hurry up, whilst there’s still light.”

    “Are you crazy?” Smith’s outburst was accompanied by both of them halting, Ross’ feet dug into the ground and nearly pulling Trott’s arm out of the socket as he tried to continue forward. “We can’t go to the fucking _forest_!”

    “It’s big and open and it won’t hurt to let him have a little space, right?” He continued to tug, brow wrinkling with the effort. “I’ve seen the inside of that shed.”

    “And that could be something or someone if I’m let loose,” Ross answered, only slightly raising his voice. “We’re not doing that- especially since I know you two won’t leave me alone.”

    “How do you-”

    “Because I know you. Now come on, I think I have an idea.”

* * *

    “The Room of Requirement?”

    “Yeah. You said the school has a room that only shows itself when it’s needed- and we really need a room.” At Trott’s expression, Ross grinned. “I do listen when you talk, you know. Unlike some people I could name.”

    “Mate, if he talked about something _interesting_ , I might actually listen,” Smith drawled from his spot against the wall, opposite where Ross was pacing. “Instead he’s just a dull nerd.”

    “Thanks for that one.”

    “Anytime.”

    The still-pacing werewolf huffed, coming to a stop and facing the still-blank wall with a glare. “Come _on_! I need a place- Trott, you _said_!”

    “I know that, I know I did! Maybe..” He trailed off, tapping his fingers against his leg in thought. “There was an incident with it, I think. It may have been too damaged to come back, Ross…”

    “ _No_. It’s _going_ to come back.” Jaw set, he marched up the the wall, standing even taller and staring down the still unchanging brick in front of him. “Come on. I _need_ a place. I need a place where I can hide. Where I don’t have to hurt anyone or anything. I can just spend the whole time wearing myself out and not have to replace anything, where my friends can know that I’ll be safe- where I know _they’ll_ be safe.” The last part of his sentence was much softer, even sadder, and the determined wrinkle on his brow faded. “Please?”

    After a moment of silence, a low rumbling started, and out of nowhere, right before his eyes, an ornate wooden door formed, twice his- already substantial- height.

    “I think it’s gotten sentimental- all it needed was a sob story speech,” Smith commented, and moved over to push the door open. “Well, let’s see what we’ve got to work with.”

    The room was massive, at least twice what it had looked from the outside, and very wide, with a long, flat concrete floor. Along the walls and sporadically placed throughout the room were various dummies, as the ones used to test spells with, though these- after a test prod from Ross- were soft, made out of some kind of fabric and stuffing. Among the ones along the sides were shorter, squatter ones, these resting on all fours, and after another testing prod, it took off like a shot, running and hiding around the room.

    Like something to hunt.

    “Everything you asked for,” Trott murmured, watching the little creature run about until it finally stopped, right where it had originally rested. “Hey, what’s that?”

    In one of the corners, nearest the door, two long grey walls protruded, slanting slabs of the same color creating a roof for the little room. It had few real distinguishing features, save a door, firmly shut and engraved with “Safe House”.

    “Safe House?” Curious, the werewolf reached for the slim metal handle of the door, jerking back with a yelp the moment he touched it. “Fuck!”

    “Ross?” Trott, just about to touch the wall, froze in his spot. “What happened? Are you okay?”

    “Fuck, it hurts..” He glanced down at his fingers, already blistering and turning red. “It burns you, be careful- god, how the _fuck_ is that a safe place?”

    “It is. For us, anyway.” The Slytherin, still by the door, reached out and tapped the wall with a fingernail, resulting in a metallic pinging sound. “It’s silver. Pure silver. You touch this thing, especially in wolf form, there’s no way you’re going to get inside.”

    “And inside is…?” Carefully, just in case, Trott turned the handle, pushing open the door without a sound. Everything in it was some kind of silver- at least, the structure of it. The wall, roof, and floor were the same metal, but the furnishings.. well, it looked like someone had simply lifted their beds from the dormitories and placed them here, instead, with twin tables and lamps to the sides. A place for them, so they wouldn’t ever have to be too far away.

    “How are we going to stay here? There are prefects and Ross is going to be right there and-”

    “Shut _up_ , Trott,” Smith muttered, moving to test out his own bed, green and silver. “We’ll figure that out later. Ross? What do you think?”

    He’d stayed outside, but when he peered through the open door, they could see his pleased smile.

    “Just perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wouldn't be a harry potter fic without a bit of the RoR, right?


	5. baby steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're getting closer and closer to fixing this completely.

Saying the Room of Requirement solution worked like a charm is not only a pun, but an understatement.

    The second Trott and Smith were finished with their meals on the night of the full moon, they rushed off, hurrying as quickly as they could for the Hufflepuff common room. At least the Liam kid was already there, more than willing to let the pair of them in, even if they didn’t stop to chat and nearly ran over Lyndon, the black cat grumbling at the pair.

    He got an apology later, when they hurried back out past him, half carrying, half dragging a shaking, pale Ross between them. In all honesty, he just went back to his work- whatever those three got up to in their spare time, he wasn’t going to be one to judge.

    The light of the sun outside was quickly fading, they’d seen that from the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall, but thanks to a few portrait shortcuts and very careful dodging of other people roaming the halls, they managed to get him to the Room of Requirement just in time.

    That said, they couldn’t have possibly done it without help from one person- well, creature- in particular: Randy. Though they hardly expected it from his perpetually goofy expression, the little gecko seemed to be smart as a whip and beyond invaluable, scurrying down from his position atop Smith’s head to sit them in place with a stern chirp, hurrying off across the hall. Astounded, they simply watched him disappear around the corner, until he gave a second chirp a few minutes later.

    Their own personal prefect detector- Smith promised him extra crickets in the future, earning a big smile from the reptile. As much of one as he could give, anyway.

    They settled Ross against a far wall, as far away from their own little room as they could manage, propping him up to sit. The boy had been holding it all back for as long as he possibly could, and it showed in the strain of his gritted teeth, in the hands clenched and white-knuckled at his sides. A low, grumbling growl had them both retreating to safety, now no longer able to comfort their friend as the transformation started.

    Blessedly, as if it had responded to their own wishes, the silver room was entirely soundproofed from Ross’ screams and howls as he changed. They could hear no snarling, no ripping and tearing clothing, the smashing against walls or the dolls as they were ripped to shreds by a powerful hunter, no longer their friend but something else entirely. It helped, though it didn’t stop the thought of it, and they did manage to curl up in their pushed together beds.

    But, when they woke up the next morning and found their friend, curled up as a human and sleeping peacefully a foot away from their door, unharmed, they knew his plan had worked. Even if it did leave him without clothes.

    At least they were in the Room of Requirement- they really did not need to see that much of their friend.

* * *

    If something really works so well to solve a problem, you’re going to continue to use it, and that’s just what the trio did. Every single month, after quickly downing a meal, they’d hurry to gather Ross and bundle him off to the Room of Requirement, utilizing both Randy and portraits to get him there as quickly and silently as possible.

    The Room, though they’d really only used it for transformation at first, became a kind of second home for the three, in a sense. They were left alone in here, letting them focus on what needed to be done, and- as they grew better and faster at their chores- they could spend more time there. Not only that, but extra time meant the search for a cure could start up once more.

    But even with all the books in the library at their disposal, they couldn’t find a single thing on the shelves that could aid in the search. Not a single book on cursed transformations, transfiguration, herbology, or potions mentioned a thing that they didn’t already know, though they spent weeks searching with a fine toothed comb.

    Until- surprisingly- Smith started to notice something. These weren’t recent potions books. Which would be fine for a school library, perhaps, but even the one he’d bought for this year was an old edition. They came out with new ones every year, so why wasn’t it on the list? He looked up from the open book in front of him, tapping his fingers in a steady beat as he thought it over, before something caught his eye.

    The iron gate separating the restricted section from everything else. Sure, he had no pass, but he was Alex Smith- no way in hell would a little gate stop him.

    “Hey, Trott?” He waited until the Ravenclaw looked up before he continued. “Do you think you can go and ask Madam Pince about some Quidditch books? I know I’m not allowed to play, but that doesn’t mean I can’t learn some stuff.”

    “You’re closer to the desk,” Trott replied, raising an eyebrow.

    “But she actually kind of likes you,” Smith countered. “Please?”

    Trott opened his mouth to respond, but simply sighed and rolled his eyes, getting up to go to the desk. No sense in arguing with Smith. The second he was around the corner, Smith went for it, allowing Randy- nestled in his hair, as always- to chirp if anyone spotted him coming.

    “Tell me if I’m gonna get caught, okay?” With that, careful as he could, he slipped through the door, still left slightly open by some pass-wielding student forgetting to shut it all the way. Potions would be here somewhere, so- a rather new-looking spine caught his eye, and he carefully pulled it out. _A Complete Guide To Potions, Elixirs, and Tonics_ … from last year! Eager, he flipped it open, scanning the contents, until one thing stood out among the rest.

    “Wolfsbane,” He whispered, scanning the little text under the title. “Relieves effects of lycanthropy… created by- this is it!”

    He didn’t have much time to dwell on his luck, not with a warning chirp from Randy. Quickly, he shoved the book under his robes and hurried back to his chair, pulling the book out to copy every last word down. This was it.

He could help his friend.


	6. completion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wolfsbane is hard to make.
> 
> But will it actually work?

He wouldn’t lie- the potion was _hard_ to make.

    It needed to be absolutely _perfectly_ made, required near-constant attention, and was apparently something even potion masters balked at making.

    Still, he was Alex Smith, his best friend needed him, and since when did he let something like that little warning stop him. Besides, with the Room of Requirement and a little bit of stealth on his side, providing him with ingredients and cauldrons to use, there was little to stop it from happening.

    It took him a few months to make something that didn’t explode before the final stage, and a couple more after that before he started to feel any amount of certainty, but he wanted to be absolutely, one hundred percent _sure_ this wouldn’t harm Ross. He didn’t want to be the reason for… well, anything bad happening. It was his friend, after all.

    So the very day the potion looked, sounded, and smelled the exact way it should, according to his carefully copied notes, he poured it into a bottle, avoiding spilling a drop, and hurried for his friends.

    Of course, it being the full moon, that meant a trip all the way down to where both boys were currently staying, on the Hufflepuff common room’s couch, Ross’ head on Trott’s lap as a means of comfort, the latter’s fingers scratching through his sweaty hair.

    “Hey, get him to sit up a bit for me, yeah?” Smith moved an arm under Ross’ legs, lifting him to settle more on his lap as he sat, careful not to disturb the potion still held in his hand.

    “Smith, what is that?” The Ravenclaw looked at the vial warily, seeing the smoke leaking out of the few cracks around the stopper at the top, the roiling dark liquid inside. “What _is_ that?”

    “I found something to help him, alright? Don’t worry, he’ll be okay, I promise. I know what I’m doing, trust me on this.”

    Trott met his sincere, pleading expression for a good few minutes, then sighed, taking a few pillows to help prop up Ross, only vaguely aware of what was happening. “Yeah, mate, of course I do. Come on, Ross, this is gonna help you.”

    The sick boy’s nose wrinkled, upset at the noise, however soft it was, but allowed Smith to bring the bottle up to his lips.

    Almost to nearly throw up the second it touched his tongue.

    “Ross, come on, I know it tastes revolting, but you have to drink all of it,” Smith urged, pulling it back slightly as the Hufflepuff licked his lips, trying in vain to rid himself of the terrible flavor. “Come on, mate, it’ll help. It’s like any other medicine- please?”

    His face, betrayed by the taste and upset at being told what to do, softened a little at the please. Not an order- a request. It would make his pack happy, so he had to. Even if it tasted like everything moldy and rotten and foul ever.

    With one last look of disgust, he allowed the potion to slide down his throat, not stopping until every last drop of the concoction was gone. It was thick and oily, coating his entire mouth and throat in a slightly gritty substance with the same flavor that wouldn’t disappear no matter how many times he tried to remove it.

    The good news: within moments of drinking it, his mind was a little clearer. He didn’t feel nearly as exhausted or chilled, and as he sat up properly, even Trott could feel that he was no longer feverish.

    The bad news: in a few more moments, the flavor and grittiness hadn’t gone away, and his stomach was boiling, like it was filled with lava.

    “Guys, I’m-” With that, he rolled over, landing on all fours on the ground, as near every bit of the potion came right back up, spilling over the rug in a dark, bubbling pool of what looked like tar.

    “Smith! You said it would make him feel _better_!”

    As Trott knelt down, quickly cleaning up the mess with a wave of his wand and a muttered word, Smith flailed. “It should have! I did everything right, it was exactly how it should have been done, I know it!”

    “Ugh..” Ross swallowed, still feeling the horrible coating and taste mixed with his own bile, but with the liquid out of his system… “It did. I do feel better.” Slowly, unsure, he got up off the ground, finding himself strong and steady again, able to focus once again. Even the wolf part of his mind, always present, seemed to be held at bay. “You did it!”

    “I did?” Smith’s shock only lasted a moment, quickly replaced with a bright grin that only just rivalled Ross’. “You’re okay?”

    “Hold on, so you just.. removed it?” Trott’s inquiry was met with a shake of the werewolf’s head.

    “No, it’s still there, in the back of my mind.” He tapped at his head with an index finger. “But it’s not.. like it was? I feel normal. I actually kind of want to get some fresh air for once- you guys wanna come with me?”

    With a glance shared between them, his friends simply agreed, following him out of the portrait hole. A bit of dusk air and no transformation sounded good to all three of them.

* * *

    They really didn’t know what went wrong.

    They’d been walking, the three of them across and Randy, as always, perched in Smith’s hair, over the grounds, joking around and occasionally shoving at each other. The pink and periwinkle of the sky was quickly fading to an inky deep blue, a few stars already starting to peek out, but why should they mind the time right now? It was successful, they’d be perfectly fine.

    Until a shove from the smallest of the trio prompted a low, dangerous growl from Ross.

    “Woah, calm down,” Trott raised his hands in defense. “It was just a little shove. I’m sorry?”

    Ross didn’t answer, fixing the pair of them with an icy stare, the low growling only continuing. Was it just them, or were those blue eyes starting to _glow_?

    With a snarl, the Hufflepuff leapt at his friends, the pair only just managing to dodge him, thanks to Smith pulling Trott back with him.

    “Smith, you said-”

    “I know what I said!”

    In horror, the pair could only watch as Ross’ entire body seized up, taken by tremors, and it what seemed like hours but may have been mere minutes, he changed.

    Thick, shaggy black fur erupted from his skin, covering him in a wave down his entire body. Ears grew pointed, shifted up to the top of his head, and both his mouth and nose bulged out in a long snout, rapidly filling with sharp white teeth, already slightly stained red with his own blood. He grew, somehow, higher and bulkier, nearly as tall as Trott, thick muscle rippling under his skin and ripping apart his robes.

    The entire time, only just drowned out by his screams- and later, howls- of pain, they could hear the cracking and shifting of bone, the slippery sound of organs and other tissue rearranging themselves, forming this new beast.

    In no time at all, their friend- kind, goofy Ross- was an enormous wolf, staring down both boys with such a stare that they weren’t sure they could breathe, let alone move. Until the bone-chilling howl, somehow reverberating to their very core, broke their trance.

    “Run!”

    At Trott’s order, both boys took off up the hill, as fast as their legs could carry them. Even so, it didn’t near seem like enough- the ground was steep, and the rocks they tried to get purchase on were slippery with moss and not yet dried rainwater. Ross, with his muscle and four heavily padded paws, very easily bounded up after them, and Smith- who had pushed Trott ahead of him in violation of every kind of self-preservation instinct he may have- could practically feel his hot, sour breath at his back.

    Somehow, somehow, they managed to hide, diving into a little overhang just under the bridge, only enough for the both of them to squeeze together and honestly pray to anything that Ross would pass them by. Honestly afraid and needing to see his pet one last time, Smith reached up for the little gecko- wait.

    “Randy?” He hissed, looking around, through his robes and on the ground. “Trott, do you have him?”

    “What? No, I-” The shorter boy cut off, hearing the heavy footsteps of the werewolf incredibly near their location. If they made any more noise, that would be absolutely it.

    Just as the long, dark snout started to poke into their hiding space, they could hear a small chirp, coming from back the way they came. The wolf paused, until another chirp sounded, followed by a rapid-fire series of them. Randy!

    To their amazement, the wolf actually loped away, in that direction, allowing both boys to crawl out and hurry for the bridge. Their luck, however, wouldn’t last- they could hear the chirps again, but this time closer, and Randy just scurried up Smith’s body and onto his perch before they could see Ross squeezing his way onto the bridge.

    “Thanks a fucking lot,” Smith growled, getting an apologetic squeak from the geck, hanging onto his hair for dear life as they sprinted back towards safety. If they could just get inside, get through the doors of the school-

    “Behind me!”

    Before either could really understand what happened, a tall, proper woman stepped before them, waving her wand at the rapidly approaching beast, who promptly stopped and slumped to the floorboards, fast asleep.

    “Now,” Headmistress McGonagall started, tucking away her wand and turning back to the boys, staring at their friend in shock, “You two have some explaining to do.”

* * *

    They had begged her to wait until morning, when the three of them- _three_ , their friend was the creature- could properly explain everything that had been going on since last summer. No-nonsense witch she was, McGonagall nearly refused, preferring to get this taken care of immediately, until she could see just how terrified and worn out the poor boys were.

    “In the morning,” she’d promised, and sent them on their way, to get changed and rest some before she called them back. The werewolf, still fast asleep, couldn’t be put in the forest, and neither could they stay on the bridge. They were, after all, one of her students. Instead, they stayed curled up in her office, covered in a blanket to keep the dignity of the changed child, and the moment he woke, human, she called for his friends.

    “A werewolf in my school.” Again, she remembered, faintly. Remus was the last, and- she looked at the three in front of her, sat in chairs, the werewolf finally dressed in his spare clothing. A redhead, a brunet, and a black haired boy. A trio, prone to trouble.

    Oh, how she missed those three.

    “Why didn’t you come to me about this, Mr. Hornby?”

    Instead of the boy, himself, it was Trott who spoke up. “My mum mentioned the Ministry’s decisions… she thought people wouldn’t accept it. Even with..”

    “I accept any student willing to learn,” she replied. “Werewolf or not. How have you managed to keep away during the full moon?”

    Ross hesitated, feeling rather relieved at her first statement. “The Room of Requirement. It gave my friends and I a safe place- we’ve been using it since school started.”

    “Then why were you out on the night of your transformation?”

    “That was my fault,” Smith admitted, more than a bit ashamed. “We’d been looking for something to help him since he was bitten, but we couldn’t find anything anywhere. Our potions books were old, so I.. found a new one, and there was Wolfsbane. I copied it and practiced since at least October, and yesterday it was ready, so I gave it to him. It was perfect!”

    “And yet it didn’t work..” McGonagall pursed her lips, then moved to look through the books lining her office. Transfiguration was her speciality, but as she was Headmistress, she did branch out into other subjects. Pulling a book- the same one he’d used, Smith noticed- she found the potion. “Until thick, dark, and oily.” He nodded. “Will smoke and bubble even after taken off of heat.” Another nod. “Administer one cupful every day for the week leading up to the full moon.” She glanced up at him.

    “Oh. That-” He scratched at his gingery hair. “That might be it.”

    “No wonder it made me vomit, you knob,” Ross muttered, shoving at the slightly taller boy.

    “And you made it. This is beyond N.E.W.T. level, Mr. Smith, you realize?” He grinned, actually fairly proud of himself. Rightfully so, she thought. “If you can make it again.. administer it properly, this time, Mr. Smith. I’ll be telling Professor Slughorn of your prowess.”

    That said- Smith was practically glowing at this point- she turned to Ross. “They were willing to hide you for months, risking expulsion and endangering themselves.. you have very loyal friends, Mr. Hornby.”

    “I know.” He smiled. “I wouldn’t trade them for anything.”

* * *

    “Come on, you big lump.” Trott moved under the covers of the double bed, once again hidden in the Room of Requirement. Nowhere else would allow a huge wolf inside.

    Said wolf jumped up, circling and trampling the bed down, narrowly missing his friend’s legs as he made the bed a comfortable nest for himself, before promptly flopping on the pair of them.

    “For fuck’s _sake_!” Smith shoved at him, breathless, only earning a low grumble from Ross. “Get off!”

    The wolf snorted, then closed his eyes, refusing to move no matter how the squashed boys pushed at him. Finally, they’d be safe.

    Everything was okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's the end of this one!
> 
> assorted oneshots are coming soon


End file.
